Lucidity
by jennamarie
Summary: Oneshot. Just a different point of view. Spoiler warning.


I don't know where this came from!

Warning, Spoilers!

Disclaimers: I own nothing, I never will.

**Lucidity**

The pain stopped the moment I was relieved of my burden and they handed me a wrapped bundle.

I held my newborn in my arms and looked down at his sweet face, I felt a wave of love and protectiveness wash over me.

This is my son.

My baby.

I read somewhere that all babies are born with blue eyes, but it must have been a myth. My baby looked up at me with clear, brilliant green eyes. He didn't cry the way most newborns do, he seemed to meet my adoring gaze and I swear in that moment it was if I could feel as much love from him as I felt for him.

I held him close to me, my cheek pressed against his and felt his tiny fist brush against my face.

I am a mother.

This is my baby.

I looked up as my husband walked into the room.

"Our son." I held the bundle up higher in my arms. The fulfillment and joy I felt must have been visible in my face.

My husband drew near the bed and looked down at the baby, who yawned hugely and closed his eyes.

My husband placed his finger against one of the tiny palms and watched as the delicate little fingers curled around it.

"Kurosaki Hisoka."

I looked up at my husband and nodded, then cuddled my baby close to me.

"My Hisoka." I cooed in his little ear.

My husband smiled at me, then took his leave. His smile…

It looked so forced…

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I watched my three year old son running through the sakura trees.. I couldn't contain my smile, he was trying to catch the petals before they fell to the ground, but there were so many of them.

Suddenly I realized that it wasn't a petal he was trying to catch, but a tiny pink butterfly. I shook my head, amused, I wondered if my child knew that the insect was not a petal that was going to drift down into his reach any time soon.

But I was wrong.

I laughed outright at my son's surprised expression as the butterfly lit on the tip of his nose. His bright green eyes crossed as he tried to look at the little insect that fanned its wings gently, and my laughter doubled.

"Hisoka-kun!"

The butterfly flew away as he turned his head towards the sound of my voice, a smile illuminating his face.

"'Kaa-san!"

Joy sounded in his voice and he ran to my waiting arms.

I swung him up and my heart echoed the same joy.

The joy I felt every time my baby smiled at me.

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"Nee-san"

I cried out. Kisane?

"Where's my Hisoka? Where's my baby?"

Kisane? What do you mean? Hisoka is my son!

"They took my Hisoka away from me!"

I was standing by the pond, the pond near our home and as I watched a dark figure began to immerge from the water.

Kisane?

She held a dark, rotting bundle in her arms.

Suddenly the bundle in her arms was _my son_! My baby, his eyes closed and his limbs flaccid in her embrace. No!

"You had no child Rui."

Then my son was gone and once again there was only a rotting bundle in her arms.

"You had my child Rui."

The rotting cloth moved.

"My Hisoka."

And I heard the cry of an infant.

Screams!

I sat up in my bed and blinked, the sound of childish screams waking me as affectively as a slap in the face.

I hurried to my feet and practically flew to my son's room.

"Hisoka-kun!"

His screams faded at the sound of my voice.

"'Kaa-san!" Small arms reached out for me and my heart skipped a beat.

My child needed me.

I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight, rocking back and forth as he sobbed against my chest.

"'Kaa-san, there was a dark lady in the water!"

No, it wasn't possible!

"And she was holding a black blanket…"

I pulled back slightly from my son and looked into his face, his tear filled green eyes.

"I'm scared 'Kaa-san, why are you scared?"

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There was no way I could deny it anymore. My son was not normal.

In fact, he scared me now, he always seemed to know what I was thinking, what I was feeling.

And I had tried so hard!

I tried not to see when my four year old child knew the cook was going to go into a rage.

I tried not to notice when my five year old son went and hid in a corner because he knew his Uncle Iwao was coming before he'd even knocked on the door.

I tried to ignore Kisane's voice whispering in my head that my son was never mine.

Not my son.

Not my Hisoka.

Never mine.

I could hardly bear to be around him now, his green eyes pleading with me…

IT HURT!

I had held him, I nursed him, I rocked him and I had wiped away his tears…

I loved him.

But…

Never mine…

I can't stand to be near him now…

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I lay in my bed and stare at the ceiling and lie to myself.

He must hate me.

He wouldn't want to see me.

I was too cruel. That is truth.

He is dying. That is truth too.

He is dying and I can't bring myself to go to him.

I think I'm more afraid of him now than I ever was before.

Because while I may be lying to myself, I finally realized the truth.

I realized too late.

I love him.

I love my son.

My son.

My child.

_My baby._

And I want to go to him.

But I can't.

I can't go to him.

Because I am afraid.

Because I am a coward.

Because I no longer have any right to hold him.

I threw it away.

_I did._

And I want to scream, cry, rent, tear, anything to distract me from this ache in my arms.

This pain…is worse…

I want my son.

I want to hold him.

To tell him I love him.

I was wrong...so wrong.

I'm sorry…

I'm weak…

My baby…

_My Hisoka…_


End file.
